Hell Freezes Over
by SilverInk2011
Summary: Connie falls ill and the truth of the love between Connie and Mike is revealed.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All characters and stories belong to NBC and Dick Wolf.**

Hell Freezes Over

Jack was pacing in his office. Mike did something stupid, and he'll have the bar association after his ass. Jack was not expecting anyone to come into his office. _That stupid idiot,_ he thought, _he's gonna get his ass handed to him by the bar._ He wasn't that fond of Mike. Mike's methods were unconventional and he just didn't seem to see eye-to-eye with him.

There was a knock on his open door. He waved whomever it was in. Connie Rubirosa, Mike's assistant and his former assistant, stepped into the room. She glanced around. "Have a seat," ordered Jack.

She sat down, wanting to talk. She knew that Jack was pissed off. She didn't want it that way. She had respect for both men, especially Jack. Jack took her under his wing when she joined the DA's office. She waited for Jack to say something. She wanted him to. She wasn't called here for nothing. "What's wrong, Jack?" she asked. He continued to stare at the wall facing away from her. When he didn't answer her after about sixty seconds, she asked him again. "Jack," she started again, "what's wrong? You're staring into space." He turned himself toward her.

"Mike-." Connie held up her hand. Now she knew what this was about. Mike and his illegal attempts to obtain evidence from a search. He had gotten the evidence thrown out in Chambers. He wanted a search warrant for a company that was wiring illegal materials into their offices, but a judge wouldn't agree to sign one. The detectives had no clue that the warrant didn't exist. She glanced at Jack.

"I already know what he did," said Connie, "and I can assure you that I didn't know that he did that." Jack looked at her like she did know something. "I'm not lying."

"We should never have gotten him that promotion to Executive ADA," growled Jack.

"Are you pissed because he's getting his ass handed to the bar?" asked Connie, "or are you just pissed?"

"Consuela!" exclaimed Jack. He didn't know why he was pissed. He didn't know the reason. He stood up because Connie caught him in his moment. "I don't know."

"Jack," began Connie, "you and Mike are too much alike. The only reason that you two clash is because what he does reminds you of yourself as an Executive ADA."

Jack looked offended. "He is unethical."

"You were just as unethical as him," argued Connie. "Don't deny it," she added as he opened his mouth again. "I know you Jack. I know that you have your way of doing things. I know that those ways make you see Mike like a younger version of yourself."

"Not true, Connie," said Jack. "I know you are having your laughs with him."

"About what?" asked Connie. "We have a rule. He can't complain about you as long as I'm his assistant. At least not when I'm around." Jack looked bewildered. "It's true. You took me under your wing. I've stuck up for you so many times." The fire in her eyes flamed. "Don't go throwing all that hypocritical garbage on Mike, Jack."

Jack looked at her with offense. He turned around. Connie realized what she said. Her eyes softened a little bit. "Jack," she whispered.

"No, Connie," he whispered back. "You're right." Connie tiptoed out of the room before Jack could say anything more to her.

* * *

Mike paced back and forth, making Connie come down with a little motion sickness because she had to watch it for ten minutes. "Mike, cut that out," she ordered. Mike stopped to look at her. He saw that her face grew pale. Realizing that she might be sick, he walked over to the chair right next to her to make sure she was okay. Mike has some feelings for Connie, feelings that he didn't know she would return or not.

Connie caught her breath. She let herself stop all motion for a minute to regain her strength. She stood up to see if she could walk. She did, but she felt unstable. _Okay,_ she thought, _what the hell is going on?_ She clutched the desk. "Jack's pissed about the way the trial's going, and about you knowingly getting your ass handed to the bar."

"I didn't tell you because I didn't know how you'd react," admitted Mike.

Connie felt sick again, but also relieved. She answered him, "well, I guess... you had good... in... ten...tions." She lost consciousness and blacked out. Her head hit Mike's desk. She slid to the floor.

"Oh shit!" screamed Mike. "Connie? CONNIE!" Jack flew into Mike's office from next door, his cell phone in his hand, 911 already dialed. As he talked to the operator, Mike tried to revive her. Her breathing was faint but she was breathing.

A tear glistened in Jack's eye. He yelled at Connie not but a few minutes ago. He realized that her life might be... no... _is_ in danger.

* * *

The paramedics took Connie away in the ambulence. Mike stared across the street, his mind blank with fear. Jack sat next to him, forgetting that he was in trouble with the bar. "You okay?" he asked, aware of Mike's feelings for Connie.

"No," he admitted. "You?" he asked, aware of Jack's relationship with Connie.

"No," admitted Jack. They sat down together in the midst of saddness and depression. They couldn't continue on like that. They decided that, for Connie's sake, they would stop all the random bickering.


	2. Chapter 2

Mike and Jack rode together in the same taxi, not saying a word to each other. When they arrived at the hospital, they sat in the waiting room. Jack and Mike decided not to amuse themselves in the old magazines that were sitting out in front of them. Instead, they simply looked straight ahead looking for the nurse attending to Connie.

"Is there a Jack and Mike out here?" asked a nurse at random. Jack and Mike stood up. So did twenty other people. "They came to see a Mexican woman named Connie Rubirosa." Both Jack and Mike glared at the nurse with offense. That woman deliberately made fun of her race.

"I'm DA Jack McCoy," said Jack. The nurse looked at him in surprise. "This is one of my Executive ADAs, Micheal Cutter. Connie Rubirosa is his assistant." The nurse showed them in. Connie was stable. She was awake, but looked like she might fall asleep any minute.

"She was poisoned with something- I think it was Oxycontin. They pumped her stomach and she won't be able to do anything for days. She'll spend the next three or four days in and out of sleep. We'll keep a close eye on her."

"Thank you," he said walking over to Connie's side. Mike was already there. The nurse left the room, shutting the door behind her. Jack bent down and kissed Connie's forehead. She closed her eyes for a minute, and then opened them again. She looked at Jack and smiled. "Connie," he began, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Save it," she said weakly. "Thanks for the concern." She felt a tight squeeze on her hand. She looked up at Mike. Her eyes changed. They became softer. She wanted to say things that she didn't get the chance to. She was more in love with Mike than she would let on. She pulled her hand out of Mike's grasp and placed it tenderly on his cheek. She felt her arm burn with pain. She'd never felt so sick before. Mike placed her hand back on the bed.

"You need your strength," whispered Mike. Connie looked at him and a tear fell down her cheek. He brushed it away, leaving his hand on her cheek. He brushed his thumb over her cheek for a little while. He pulled her over to his face and kissed her. To his surprise, she returned the favor. After a few seconds (and realizing that Jack was still in the room), they broke apart. Her head fell back on the pillow, and her eyes closed, showing that she fell asleep. When she became limp with sleep, Mike and Jack exited the room. Jack looked at Mike.

"You really like her, don't you?" Jack observed.

Mike answered him with, "I don't like her a lot. I _love _her." Jack looked at him.

"I had an ADA that I was in love with while I was an executive," admitted Jack. Mike looked at him with mild surprise. Jack was sharing personal information with him. It was a true rarity. "Her name was Claire Kincaid. She was my assistant."

"The deceased Claire Kincaid?" asked Mike.

"The very same," admitted Jack. Mike looked ahead of him. His thoughts trailed back to his beloved Connie. He wanted to be a big man for her. To do that, however, he was going to have to get along with Jack.

* * *

Mike and Jack entered the 27th precinct. They were greeted by Detectives Cyrus Lupo and Kevin Bernard. "So the DA shows his face in the precinct," said Lupo with a grimace. "We heard about Connie. How is she."

"Her stomach's been pumped and she's resting," said Mike. "She needs a couple of days to sleep and a few more in the hospital to gain back her strength, but she'll be alright." Mike began to stare into space.

"What did she drink today?" asked Bernard.

"Coffee from her favorite coffee place," said Mike. "I got her some to make up for lying to her." A light bulb seemed to go off in his head. "It might have been in that coffee." He turned heal and walked out of the precinct.

Once he got back to his office, he grabbed the half finished cup of coffee and took it to the police lab.

* * *

A tech came back with the rushed results. "We found a dangerous, almost lethal combination of Rohypnol and Oxycontin in the coffee," said the tech. "Someone must have slipped her a lethal rufe. I think that whoever did this wanted Ms. Rubirosa dead."

"Alright," said Mike, "thank you." He walked out of the office and handed the results to Jack. Jack looked at the results with a stunned expression. Mike nodded.

"We need to find who wanted Connie dead," said Mike.

"Maybe it was meant for you," said Jack. Mike looked stunned. "You purchased the coffee for her. Whoever made it wanted you to die, not Connie. They probably had no clue that she would drink it." Mike was stunned and wished for Connie to wake up or something so he could talk to her.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I thought that I should explore the Connie/Mike relationship before going on with the solving of who poisoned Connie and who wanted to poison Mike.

* * *

Connie was still asleep. She was dreaming about Mike. She was waiting for him to come out of a coffee house when she heard two pops. She rushed into the house to see what was wrong. She saw Mike there, dead, blood pooling around him. She tried to revive him, but Lupo and Bernard were on scene, trying about as hard to stop her tears as they were to solve his murder. "Mike!" she screamed. "No! Mike! Mike!"

"Mike," she whispered weakly in her sleep, "Mike. No, not Mike." Mike moved his chair closer to her bed. He didn't want to wake her, but he wanted to stop her from having this nightmare.

"Connie," he whispered, stroking her hair that was now soaked in cold sweat, "hey, Consuela. It's okay Connie." He waited for her to open her eyes. She kept struggling and shaking underneath his touch. "Connie. Come on, Connie. Wake up." He watched as her eyes slowly opened and scanned the room to look for him. "I'm right here, Connie." She fixed her eyes on those blue eyes that were staring at her from above. She smiled in ecstasy. Mike, he was there. There to reassure her that the world was safe at that very moment.

"Mike," she said in a faint, barely audible whisper that he could barely hear. "You're alive." He stared at her with surprise.

"Of course I'm alive, Connie," he said in his matter-of-fact tone, "why wouldn't I be?" He then realized what she meant by that. "What were you dreaming about?" Connie grasped his hand. She didn't want him to worry. She lifted herself off pillow and into a sitting position. She let her eyes stare into his. He looked back. She slowly leaned forward, almost falling, and he caught her in his arms. Tears formed and overflowed in her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks. "My death?" A new, stifled sob told him that he was dead in her dream. He rocked her back and forth, rubbing her back.

She pulled away gently. She wanted to show him how much he means to her. She placed her lips over his and kissed them gently. When he pulled away, she was surprised. She let more tears, and a little rejection, fill her eyes. He seemed a little surprised at his own actions. He was in love with that beautiful woman sitting in that bed and he pulls away from her kiss. She let her hands fall from his shoulders and hugged her knees, burying her face in them. She felt her heart break at the sudden rejection. "You shouldn't be sitting up, Connie," said Mike with his lawyer tone that he usually saves for court, "you really should be lying down." He reached out for her arm, but she pushed him away. He moved from the chair to the bed and placed his arm around her in a reassuring way.

She would have pushed him away, but then she realized that there would be no point in risking further rejection. He was worried for her. He loved her. He just wanted her to know. She wanted him to know, too. She loved him with all her heart and wanted him to love her back. She tried again. She removed her head from her knees and kissed him with the most strength that she could give. To his credit, he didn't pull away. He let himself become victim to this and returned her kiss. Her love. He wanted her to be okay. He wanted her to become his no matter how hard he tried. "Mike," she whispered after she broke away from him. "It was your death I dreamed about." She fell into his arms.

"Tell me about it," he cooed. She shook in his arms. She wanted to gather back her strength. The strength she needed to tell him what happened in her dream. He let her shake. He knew how painful it would be to discuss it. He loved her, and he wanted to prove his love by showing her that it would be alright in the future. "When you're ready," he added with a tender smile. He rocked her shaking frame, letting her be free of any hurt that he may have caused her in her dreams.

"You went t-to get coffee a-after court one day," she sobbed into his arm, "and there were two pops from the c-coffee shop and I went inside to see if you were alright. Y-You weren't. You had t-two bullet holes in your chest a-and were surrounded b-by a pool of b-blood. I called out to you and t-tried to save you, b-but I couldn't and I... I..."

"Shh," he cooed, "stop fighting this. I love you. There is no way I'll ever leave you." She smiled weakly, a little reassured. She pulled his face back down to her hers and kissed him fiercely.

"I love you," she whispered in his ear. Connie couldn't stop herself. She snuggled into Mike's arms, and he vowed to never let go. He wanted her to stay there for the rest of eternity. He just couldn't get his mind out of thoughts about Connie. His love was never ending, and he wanted it that way.

He whispered, "I love you," back into Connie's ear. She gave him the most tender look. Only then realizing how tired she was, she began to fall asleep in his arms. He cradled her for ten minutes until he was sure she was in a deep sleep, then he rested her on the bed. He left, wondering what Jack was up to.

"Mike, wait!" she said, suddenly jerking from her sleep.

"What?" he asked her.

"How do I know that this isn't the dream?" He walked over and bit her lip, hard. "Ow!" she yelped, checking for blood. When she didn't find any, she smiled and reached her arms out to him. He let her hold him for a while, but then he had to leave. She lay back down, waiting for the next day. Without warning, she was asleep again.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack was really tired, but he was more interested to see how well Connie's recovery was going than getting some sleep himself. He entered the hospital and identified himself at the front desk. When he entered Connie's room, she was awake and sitting up, her head turned toward the window. "Hey!" he called.

Connie turned her head in his direction. He wasn't Mike, but he was Jack. The man she had respect for and admired. The man who taught her everything she knows about ethics in the courtroom and how to overlook them. She smiled at him, waiting for a response. She whispered, "Hey." She waited for him to sit down. When he began pacing the room, she began to exhaust herself with worry. "Jack, stop that," she insisted. He looked at her, then ran a hand over his mouth and resumed the nauseating motion. "Don't you know better than to do that in front of someone that isn't well?" asked Connie with concern. He didn't stop.

"Too much is on my mind, Connie," replied a tired Jack.

"You sound tired," observed Connie.

"I am," he said. Despite that, he continued walking around the room.

"Sit down Jack," ordered Connie with earnestness. Jack realized that she was just concerned and obeyed his former assistant. "What's on your mind?" she asked.

He stared at her with shock. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he answered. He continued to look at the wall. Connie turned her head toward him. "We know what you were poisoned with," announced Jack.

"Poison?" asked Connie. "I was poisoned?"

"Yes," responded Jack with a tone of anger in his voice. "The barista who made the coffee from that little coffee house you love so much thought he was making it for Mike and put in a lethal combination of Rohypnol and Oxycontin in your coffee."

"The lab techs found it?" asked Connie. Jack nodded. Connie turned her gaze to her feet, hiding the tears in her eyes. Jack noticed this and moved closer to her bed. Connie let one or two tears fall before wiping them away. She felt a hand rubbing her shoulder, Jack's way of comforting her when she felt miserable.

"You know," said Jack, "Affairs with partners are-"

"Jack," whined Connie through her tears, "Not the Claire Kincaid story again. I think I love Mike. It's not just the crazy notion of having sex with the boss. I love him." Connie stopped herself before she could say more. She didn't want to tell him about the dreams; the nightmares that she had about Mike dying. "Someone tried to poison him," she said, biting back tears. "Someone tried to poison the man that I love."

"It's not all bad," assured Jack. Connie looked at him with furious eyes. "He's alive, isn't he?" Then he realized what he said and changed the tune of the conversation. "So, you love him. Care to elaborate?" he asked.

Connie chuckled. Jack was never like this before. She didn't care. She liked this side of him- the friend who just wanted to gossip. She and Jack talked until he grew tired and left to get some sleep. Connie placed her head against her pillow to get some sleep as well.

* * *

Mike was preparing his own testimony before the bar when Detective Lupo came into his office. He looked tired, like he was up all night. "I compiled a list of baristas who work at that particular coffee house," he announced. "Any of them look familiar?"

Mike studied the list. "No," he whispered. It was the most puzzling thing in the world. His beloved was in the hospital recovering from a poisoning. The detectives realized that he might have been the intended target. Jack was just as angry about this as he was. He kept his composure. There was a picture of Connie that he stole from her one day. She was puzzled when she found it on his desk. He lied and said that he wanted a picture of his new assistant to stand on his desk. She smiled and walked out of the room. The next day, he found a frame of himself on hers. He smiled at the thought of the memory, but it was a brief, three-second smile.

Detective Lupo stood up. "Hey," he said with a cold tone, "You do anything to hurt her and you'll have me to answer to." He walked away. Mike was startled by the order. Hurting Connie was the last thing on his mind. When he wasn't working, he was by her side, and when he wasn't by her side, he was working. Connie understood that. She understood the job. She didn't care. As long as she loved him, she wanted to prove that he did. He did, too. He wanted to show Connie his love for her.

The door opened again. "What do you want, Jack?" he asked, thinking it was Jack who came into the room.

"Is that anyway to greet me?" asked a familiar female voice. Mike looked up and saw Connie enter the room, in a red scoop-neck sweater and black tulip skirt, looking fully recovered. Mike stood up to greet her. It involved a long, very passionate kiss. He then wrapped her in his arms and held her for a long time. Her head rested against his shoulder.

"Welcome back Connie," he whispered, stroking her hair, grateful that she came back.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack walked to Connie's desk that afternoon. He saw her sitting there, carrying on with her day like nothing was wrong. She seemed quite content about it all. He clasped a hand on her shoulder. "Welcome back," he announced to her. She looked back at him and smiled. Both of them didn't notice Mike enter the room.

"Cheating on me already?" asked Mike. The three of them laughed. Connie stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist. He slid his arm around her shoulder.

"Even I wasn't this public about it," studied Jack. Mike threw a crumpled up piece of paper at him playfully. He smiled then patted Connie's hair and clapped Mike on the shoulder in a friendly way. A smile broadened on Connie's face.

"So," she began, "You two getting along now?" Mike nodded.

"I think it was you," admitted Mike. Connie looked at him, startled. "He cares about you, also. I think it made sense that you brought us together." Connie nodded in a way that told him that she understood. She gave him a surprise smile of affection. She thought that love wouldn't make sense without the approval of others. Then again, it doesn't make sense anyway.

* * *

Connie entered the coffee house she likes to frequent when she isn't working. She ordered her usual and left. She wanted to take it to the lab to see if she was the intended target or if it was Mike.

"Why are you so concerned about it?" asked one of the techs.

"Just run it through!" she ordered. She was very concerned. Mike means so much to her. She wanted to find out whoever was doing this. She knew one of the two baristas very well. Margaret was very sweet, never any trouble, and usually takes her order. She always asks if she wants her usual. However, the new guy, Mark, was kind of sketchy. She didn't know why, but he was always looking at her with lewd eyes. He kind of scared her. He made her coffee. This coffee was made by Mark. She wanted to be sure that their assumptions about Mike being the target are correct. When the tech came out with the results, she jumped down his throat. "Well?" she asked impatiently, "Is it Mike? Huh?"

"Easy, Ms. Rubirosa," pushed the tech. He handed her the results. "There were high levels of Oxycontin and Rohypnol in the coffee. Maybe we were mistaken about Mr. Cutter being the target. It seems they know your usual."

Connie sat down. A stunned look completely took over her face. She didn't know what to do about it. She needed to see Mike. All she knew was that she wanted to see Mike. She wanted to tell him what was going on.

* * *

Connie tossed the toxicology report on Mike's desk. He gave her a confused and bewildered expression. "What is this?" he asked her.

"I bought a cup of coffee at that same place to run to the lab," announced Connie. "You were not the intended target. I was." She slumped herself into a chair. A tear or two ran down her cheeks.

Mike stood up and walked over to her. She stared back at him. He looked at her with love so deep that it was impossible not to notice. She wanted her to understand his feelings. "Hey," he whispered. "I think that we should explore this further." He lifted her head and saw that she needed the support of his love. He looked up and kissed her gently, almost afraid that if was anymore forceful, she would break. She let him deepen it. When he stopped, she placed her head on his shoulders, begging him not to let her go. He obeyed her. He loved her. He stayed with her. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she whispered back. "I love you so much." She wept in his arms. He just clasped her and told her that it'll all be okay in the end. 


	6. Chapter 6

Connie and Mike entered the coffee house with Lupo and Bernard trailing behind them. They stood in the back, waiting for the signal. They both began to order, and the rest of the shop had no idea that this was a set-up. The hand-in-hand air that they gave the area seemed to fool everybody into thinking that this wasn't a set-up. When they finished the order, they began to walk out of the coffee house when a voice sounded from back. "Yo, Connie!" he screamed. He raised a gun. Mike stepped in front of her. He shot twice. Mike dropped to the ground, clutching his chest. Blood was spilling out, but the amount wasn't life threatening.

"MIKE!" screamed Connie. Her worst fears were confirmed. He was dying. Lupo noticed this, raised his gun, and shot the gun Mark the barista was holding out of his hand. He then tackled the guy, placing him under arrest for the attempted murders of Connie Rubirosa and Mike Cutter. None of this put Connie's mind at ease. She covered his chest with both her hands, trying to keep the blood in him. "Mike, no! No, no, NO!" she screamed repeatedly. "Please don't die! Please don't leave me!" she added through a flood of tears. He looked at her, the life draining very slowly from his eyes. He stared at her, love pouring out from his eyes. He needed her there at this moment.

"I'm not… leaving you Connie," he whispered. She still kept her hands on his chest, keeping the blood from coming out any faster than it was already. She had her head pulled down quickly by Mike, who was fighting for his life. He wanted to look into her eyes, to kiss those fragile lips. He did just that. When the paramedics took him away, she stared at her hands. They were covered in blood. She wept. Bernard kneeled down next to her.

"Need a ride to the hospital?" he asked. Connie nodded, and Bernard placed an arm around her shoulder. The helped her into their car and drove her to Mercy, where Mike would surely be.

* * *

Jack entered the hospital on a call from a receptionist there. He saw Connie, staring into space. No, she was completely glassy-eyed, as though she was completely broken like glass. She didn't move, didn't blink, didn't even notice Jack when he entered the room and sat down next to her. He noticed her hands. They were bloodstained. She didn't wash them off. It was hard to believe that the neat and tidy Consuela Rubirosa was sitting there covered in blood. He wanted her to say something. When she didn't, he grew anxious. "Connie?" he whispered. She stared back at him. Her eyes flooded with tears again.

She wanted him to see that Mike means everything. She wanted Jack to know that the most important thing in her life at this very moment is Mike. She wanted Jack to notice that she loves him. "Look at me," she uttered. "Look at my hands. Tell me this isn't what I think this is." She gave him a pleading stare. "Tell me."

"What do you want me to say?" he inquired. She arose from the chair. She stole careful steps to another area of the room. Her stride was still that of Connie Rubirosa.

"Just something," she breathed. She glanced back at him, her expression collapsing into another one of despair.

"He'll be alive," he mumbled in hurt tones. He got up and inched his way over to Connie. He brushed her tears away. She shook him off. She didn't want pity. Not like this. She wanted anything but this. She wanted Mike safe and in her arms. She prayed for him.

"Look at my hands, Jack," she ordered, sobbing. "Look at them! It's his blood, Jack! It's his blood!" She sobbed more forcefully than ever. She glanced at the dried blood in her hands. Quaking where she stood, she was about to fall. Jack caught her as she fell. Clutching her stomach, he pulled her into a tight squeeze. Her tears fell on his suit coat. From the distance he looked like a father hugging his upset daughter.

"He's alive," consoled Jack. "He's alive and thinking of you.

* * *

"Connie tiptoed into the room where Mike was recovering from his surgery. She wanted to see the comatose Mike. He looked lifeless. He was almost dead. She hated that. Her hands came to his hair. "He should be like this for at least forty-eight hours," announced the doctor attending to him. "He will recover though. His surgery was a complete success."

"But until then he lies there like a vegetable," grieved Connie. "That's the best you can do?" The doctor looked taken aback. She began to speak again.

"No… I… I mean…" Jack cut off the stuttering doctor.

"She's just a little shaken right now," apologized Jack. He grabbed a struggling, infuriated, grieving Connie and held her still. "He will wake up, though." The doctor nodded and hurried out of the room before Connie could do anything else. She struggled her way out of Jack's grip to sit next to Mike. She leaned forward and kissed the top of Mike's head. Leaning against the sheets, she made a grab for his hand, and sobbed into the sheets. Jack just stood watching, not knowing what to do.


	7. Chapter 7

The next forty-eight hours were hell. Hell was beginning to freeze over. Life suddenly wasn't making sense. Not to Jack and certainly not to Connie. Mike didn't know any of this. He wasn't living any of the hurt right now. How could he while being in a coma?

Connie was just… living. She was empty. She wanted to be by his side more than anything. She loved Mike, she wanted his love. She wanted him to wake up. She could do nothing. That just didn't sit well with her, so she just gave up. Jack wanted her to take some time off, but Connie ignored him from what he saw. He couldn't tell what she was going to do. He just didn't think that Connie was going to come out of what ever spell she was under. It was like she did things only for Mike. She loved him. He saw that. She was at his side during her free hours.

It's now been forty-eight hours. She was at his bed side, waiting for him to wake up. The anticipation was destroying her from the inside. As it ate away at her, she looked at his eyes, waiting for him to wake up. She sat there and stared, hoping he looks at her when he wakes up. _Come on, Mike_, she thought to herself, _wake up. Please wake up. _

He stirred suddenly. She made a high pitched gasp. His eyes opened with a slow movement. They took a couple minutes. Her eyes overspill with tears. She gave herself over to him the minute his eyes moved around. His head turned slowly to the beautiful woman sitting right next to him. "Connie?" he asked weakly.

"Mike," she sobbed. She stroked his cheek. The more she touched him, the more she wanted to hold him. He slowly moved his hand over to her hair. "Mike, don't move. Stay still, please." Connie gave a pleading look with her eyes. She wanted him to obey.

"I was waiting for you," he sighed. Connie couldn't resist temptation any longer. She bent down and kissed him gently, mindful of the gunshot wound.

She pulled back and gazed into those blue eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that she loves so much. "I love you so much, Mike," she sobbed, "It hurts. I never wanted this to happen. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he said with a tired smile. She lowered her head. She loved him. When he realized she wasn't as close to him as he would like, he tried to beckon her over. "I'm not that injured," he chuckled. Connie smiled with tears still sparkling in her eyes. He motioned that he was okay to hold, and Connie leaned down as close to him as she could get. She snuggled into his embrace, tears falling onto his sheets. Mike's eyes filled with tears, too. She was there, in the flesh, as beautiful as any other woman in the world. He wanted her. She wanted him. It was that simple. It was so simple that he couldn't see how no one could understand that. It was just like the world's worst joke that these tragedies had to happen.

"Connie," he whispered to her. She silenced him, placing a finger to his lips. She removed her finger and replaced it with her own lips. He responded quickly. The kiss was deep. It was exactly what Mike wanted at that moment. As she kissed him, Mike forgot what he wanted to tell her. He just wanted to love her right then and there. He could taste salt. Her tears. The tears that let him know that she was there and relieved. He just wished that this wasn't what happened. He wanted Connie to be happy, but he didn't want to spend his life watching her and let his desires go unfulfilled. Until then, he settled for that kiss. He kept it going until he was too tired to carry on. When he stopped, she noticed that his head grew heavy. She let him fall asleep in her arms. When he was asleep, she pulled back as gently as she could. She placed a kiss on his temple and left the hospital. She was going to spend the next days by his bedside.

* * *

"Any news?" asked Jack with curiosity. Connie nodded. "Well?"

"He woke up," she said with a smile. She let him smile at her grin.

"Are you happy about that?" he asked.

"What do you think?" asked Connie with a know-it-all tone.

"Alright, alright," said Jack, waving the comment aside. Despite how dead and invisible Connie seemed to be the past few days, she seemed okay. She seemed glad to have Mike back and talking to her. "Acting like a smart-ass is one of the first signs that you're back to normal."

"Oh, really?" argued Connie. "Then what's yours?"

"Wanna drop it?" asked Jack. Connie responded with a nod. She walked over to the edge of the room. "Is he okay?"

"He's Mike," she chuckled. "He's Mike." Jack didn't understand the comment. "You'll get it eventually."


	8. Chapter 8

The next five days went smoothly. She sat at his bedside, and he was trying to get her under the sheets. Each time he did, she had to remind him that they couldn't until he was recovered completely. That disappointed Mike. He wanted to be with her. Connie never smiled more than she did in those five days. She only left when the nurse had to change his bandage or when she needed to do some work. She always left work early and did what she could out of the office. On the sixth day, he was ready to be discharged. "Keep him in bed for two weeks and no love-making for a month," were the instructions of the doctor. Connie was going to obey those instructions to the best of her abilities. Mike needed to stay well for all it was worth.

* * *

"Connie," he summoned in his bed. Connie was staying at his place until he was fully recovered (although that may change). She came obediently into his room. He was lying there with the remote in his hand. She had some papers in her hands. As she wandered up to his bed, she set them down.

"Yes," she answered, sitting down next to him

. He reached out to her, and she grabbed him before his bandages became undone again.

"I'm bored," he whined like a little boy. Connie groaned. He'd been complaining for the last few hours about his boredom. She laid down right next to him. He slung an arm over her shoulder and she nestled up against him. While he sat there bored, she took time off from work to care for him. Jack was all for it, but he gave her a ton of appeals to work on. She sat there, looking at the mound of work. "Shouldn't you be at work?" he asked her.

Connie grimaced. "Jack let me take some time off to care for you," she replied. "He gave me time off, and now I have appeals coming out of my ears." He smiled at the thought of the typical Jack McCoy. If you're not working, then there's nothing to do.

"Want some help?" asked Mike, thinking that working on appeals would cure him of his boredom and give him more time with Connie.

"Mike," she complained, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be working right now."

"Why not?" he asked.

"I just don't," she whispered. She fixated her eyes on his feet, which were sticking up from the sheets in front of them.

"It's not like I have a brain injury," he said. "It's not like I was shot in the arm." She turned her brown eyes back to his blue ones. He looked desperate, so she had no choice but to give him the appeals. She freed herself from his grip and began to sit up. Mike pulled her back down into a deep kiss. Before it could get any deeper, she backed off.

"No, Mike," she whispered. "Not tonight. Remember what the doctor said."

"Right," he whimpered with anger. How could he forget that he couldn't love his girlfriend until a month after he recovers from his wounds.

"Hey," she whispered, stroking his face, "Some things are worth waiting for. One month will pass. Just be patient." He looked like he wanted to strangle someone. "Hey, the look." He dropped it.

"I love you Connie," he said to her, "I can't wait. I love you more than anything. If dying for you was what I had to do, then I would. I love you that much." Connie leaned into him. His embrace was strong. His grip was deadly. She didn't want to let go of him. No matter how much she wanted him right now, she couldn't have him completely; not as long as he was still in pieces. She wanted him whole, unharmed, undamaged.

"I love you, too, Mike," she whispered into his ear. "Being covered in your blood never seemed so horrible until I realized that losing you was a possibility. If you really love me, don't die for me."

"Okay," he said, kissing her hair, caressing every strand he could. "Now about those appeals…"

"If you let go of me, I can go get one," argued Connie. He obeyed her order and let her break free of his grasp. She strode to the table where she put the appeals on to grab a couple of them.

"Do you know who's handling the case?" asked Mike.

"Which one?" asked Connie absentmindedly, not realizing he was asking about their case and not the appeals.

"Our attempted murders," he responded with bewilderment.

"Kibre and Gaffney," said Connie. "They're good, but not as good as you." He smiled at the compliment. She grabbed the top appeal, two pens, and laid down on Mike's right side, using a book as a lap desk. "Ooh, lovely," she said, reading the case file.

"What's wrong?" asked Mike.

"This case is about a man who murdered his wife and two daughters in the home, raping all three of them," she said, shuddering and feeling sick at the thought. "He then took his two sons to a cabin out in the woods, raped them, and killed them their. God that's sick!"

"That's weirdoes for you," replied Mike with known disgust on his face. She took note of it.

"If we were to get married and have kids, would you go this insane?" asked Connie. Mike nearly fell of the bed at this question.

"Where would you get an idea like that?" he asked with fear.

"Good," she mumbled, "I was right. You're not insane." Mike rolled his eyes. "Sorry," she added, noting how comfortable she was in his arms and how much she loved him. They worked on the appeal in each other's arms that night, resulting in Connie falling asleep in his arms. He put it down and became a victim of sleep himself. Curled up in Connie's arms, he dreamt about his later life with Connie and how desperate he was to find the depth of her love. He wanted to marry this woman, but he wasn't sure how long it would be until he got the chance to tell her himself.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I'm writing three different stories right now and my job gets a little crazy. But now that work is done with, I can focus on my writing.

* * *

Connie woke up from her sleep to see that the side Mike was previously on was vacated. She went ballistic. Where was he? Did he leave? She worried enough to get a mild headache. She got up and looked around for him. She ran to the living room, and she saw Mike with an open appeal in front of him. "Mike!" she growled in anger. "You should be in bed."

He jumped at the sudden anger in her voice. He didn't want her mad at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Sitting in a bed by myself just doesn't do it for me."

Connie's expression softened a little bit. "I know," she said, "I'm like that, too." He looked a little broken up about something.

He turned his head away from her. "Hey," she whispered, "what's wrong?"

"I keep seeing him," he whispered.

"Seeing who?" asked Connie.

"Mark, that barista," he answered uneasily. "I see him pointing a gun at you, only this time I wasn't quick enough and you died at the scene." Tears fell down he cheeks. A few tears escaped Connie's eyes as well.

"Hey," she whispered, "I have dreams about you stepping in front of me and dying on the spot also." She also added, "I hope you remember the nightmares I was having." He nodded. She caressed his face in her hands. He let her do so. She wanted him to understand that everything was alright, that they were both alive, and they were right there. They were in each other's eyes, not in graves. The caress soon turned into a kiss. "Come back to bed," she ordered in a whisper, "at least lie down right next to me to make sure I'm there." He attempted to stand up with Connie's help, and he gratefully crawled back into bed with her at his side. Leaning against him, she gave him the notion that whatever will happen or is going to happen in the future. This time, he wrapped his arms around her before she fell asleep. He didn't let go until she woke up.

* * *

It's been two weeks. Jack still tried to make him take off from work, but he refused to do so. It was frustrating to both Jack (who thought he wasn't ready to come back to work) and Connie (who wished he'd stay home and rest).

"Connie I'd already gotten grief from you at home this morning," he complained as Connie followed him into his office.

"Mike, honey," she said, "I really think you should be at home. I want you to rest."

"FYI, Connie," he began, "I'm not going home. I'm a grown man. Also, the doctor said stay in bed for two weeks and no sex for a month!"

"Whoa, whoa," said Jack as he slid into the room right on cue, "what is this I heard about sex? That's not happening is it?"

"No, Jack!" sprouted Connie through clenched teeth, "we can't do that for a month. Doctor's orders."

Jack looked from Connie to Mike and then back to Connie. She'd never seen Connie so agitated before. It made him a little nervous. "So, then what's the argument about?" asked Jack.

"She's mad because I didn't stay home like a sick puppy," Mike threw in.

Connie's face turned red with anger. The reddish hue spread throughout her tan skinned body. "That is _not _true and you know it!" she squealed, "I just don't think that you've healed enough to work."

"Connie," interjected Jack, "I think that Mike can make his own decision-."

"Jack!" she stammered, "don't get involved! It's bad enough as it is!" She began to exit the room.

"You just can't stand to lose an argument," Mike realized.

"Dammit Mike!" she yelled, slamming a fist on the door, "that is not what I feel and you know it!" She stormed out of the room and back to her desk. She fought back tears until that point, when she let them take over as she slumped into her seat. She took the picture of Mike on her desk and hugged it to her chest. "Mike," she whispered through tears, "I just can't stand the thought of losing you."

* * *

Jack stared at Mike, who was watching the door like a puppy. He was waiting for Connie to open the door, but she never did. "Give it up, Mike," ordered Jack. "The only way she'll come back is if you talk to her yourself." Mike seemed to be way ahead of him because he was already out the door.

When he approached her desk, he saw her crying over some work. He sat down next to her, and she turned her head away from him. She didn't want him to see her face. "I'm sorry, Connie," he said.

"About what?" she asked, still not facing him.

"Not listening to you," he answered.

She stood up from her desk and turned to the opposite wall of the room. She didn't want to say anything more. But she did. "I just don't think I could go through all that pain again," she whispered. "I don't want there to somehow be complications to your injury that might put you into a permanent coma or… or kill you. I j-just don't think I could go through the pain again." She leaned against the glass of the window she was facing to let tears fall free without him noticing. He walked up to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She continued to look out the window, staring at the moving people through tears. She didn't look at Mike. She couldn't. Mike did it for her.

He turned her until he could see her face. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her that he was alive and that he felt fine. She looked down, but he lifted her chin to see puffy red eyes and tearstained cheeks. He kissed her and then pulled her against him. She leaned her face against his shoulder and took in the embrace. "No matter what happens, I'm by your side. Don't ever come to the conclusion that I'll never be around." He looked at her with all the love in the world, like she was the only woman there. All he wanted was her love. She was there to give it to him.


	10. Chapter 10

A week later, Connie finally got the courage to face Jack after the little outburst. There was a new case that was a little on the downside and she wanted him to take a look at it. Maybe he would have some advice for them. She entered Jack's office and stared at the two men watching the television.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Connie. Mike shot her a look to quickly shut her up. They were watching the news.

"…Guards say that this prisoner has a score to settle. He's going to go after his target until she is dead," said the reporter. "Reporting live from Rikers Island, I'm-." Jack shut off the television. Mike patted the cushion next to him as a signal for her to sit down. She obeyed and he put a comforting arm around her. Comforting… she wondered about that gesture.

"I take it that you just wanted to watch about the prison break," said Connie. Jack and Mike stared at each other with confused expressions. They gave that silent communication right in front of her. She wanted to know what exactly this was about. She hated being in the dark. "What?" She stared at the two men, who still looked like she was an ignorant child. "What the hell is going on?" she asked them. They both turned their heads toward her. Mike tightened his arm around her so that if she began to make any sudden, terrified movements, he could reassure her.

"A prisoner escaped," announced Jack.

Connie rolled her eyes and tipped back her head. "I know that," said Connie, "But what I don't know is what this has to do with me."

"It has everything to do with you," replied Mike. He looked to Jack for help, but Jack seemed to brush him off. "The escaped prisoner is Marcus Woll."

Connie didn't move, didn't dare to blink or breathe. She stared straight ahead, eyes in a fixed blank stage. Mike pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. Jack watched them. "The security details are in place," Jack announced. "You'll be safe as long as they're around." He looked at Mike, "And as long as you have Mike, I don't think that security will be a problem." Mike gave a small, half-smile at the half-compliment.

Connie just stared into space. She slowly came around. Her body became a little limper and she leaned more into Mike. His arms enclosed around her, making her feel more secure. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. Jack stared at her. "I… I'll be fine." They looked at her like she was crazy.

"You don't understand," whispered Jack bitterly. "It would be safer this way." Mike nodded in agreement with him.

"I disagree," said Connie. They stared at her in disbelief.

"Connie what part about 'He's out to get you' don't you understand?" asked Jack.

"The part when it involves you!" she yelled suddenly. "Look, if you send out a security detail, I look frightened and he's going to come for the two of you. If I don't have one, I'll take all the heat. If you do this and try to protect me, you'll fail in protecting yourselves. I don't want that to happen." Connie freed herself from Mike to stand up.

"Connie, I really think that you should have protection," interjected Mike, repeating what Jack said, only in different words.

"No," she started again, leaving the room. Mike chased after her.

"Connie," he began to say. "I know you care. I know you want us to stay out of this, but I can't just walk away."

"Neither can I," replied Connie to this sudden explanation. She stared at his beautiful eyes, the eyes that she loved so much.

Mike looked back at her. "Look, you made it very clear that you don't want to lose me. I respect that. I cherish that. I love you for that. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you.

Connie," he pulled her in, kissed her, and held her gaze at a short distance from his face, "I love you. I don't want to wake up in the morning and have you not there." She held him for a moment. She realized that she meant a lot to him. He meant a lot to her. She wanted him safe.

"That's why I have to go it alone," she whispered. "If I disappear, you'll know it. You'll save me. At least, I believe you will."

Mike knew exactly what she was getting at. If she went at it alone, without noticeable fear, she would be able to be saved. Now that that was clear, he knew just what to do.


	11. Chapter 11

Mike let Connie go home without him. He wanted her to get some rest and to clear her head of anything relating to Marcus Woll. He knew why Woll wanted to destroy her. She was the only person to take the stand against him. She told them about the sick things that he did. About how he would send his assistants back then to talk to witnesses in murders for the defense or for the people. Connie just left not but a few seconds ago. He thought about her, though. How he would be at her side in a few hours time. He began to work on one of the appeals alone. He thought as long as he was alone and still at work, he could do some of the work that didn't require Connie's assistance, as much as he loved it.

Something happened. The alarm system sounded throughout the entire building. He heard a few screams and a few more people running into walls. He ran outside of his office to see the spectacle. _Don't they teach people how to behave in situations like these_? He was glad Connie wasn't here right now. It was probably Marcus Woll infiltrating the building. He watched as the guards and the DA inspectors were trying to calm the lawyers and paralegals in the building down. He was about as calm as he could get, because of the notion that Connie was safe. One of the security guards came straight up to him. "Mr. Cutter," he began, "I'm sorry. We couldn't stop him."

"It's okay," he said calmly, "she's not here. He's after her. He won't touch anybody else in this office. Just get everybody to calm down."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Marcus Woll," answered a stunned Mike.

"Exactly who I'm talking about. He's not in here, Mr. Cutter. He's got Ms. Rubirosa. He grabbed her from outside and hit the security cameras with a hammer."

It was hearing this that Mike began to panic. He had Connie. He walked in fast paced circles until someone could calm him down. When he was stable enough to walk without hitting anything, he ran out of Hogan Place and turned the corner, hoping that this was some sort of sick joke. It wasn't. There was no sign of Connie. Mike's panicked eyes filled with tears. "Connie!" he screamed "Connie!" When no one answered him, he assumed the worst and immediately ran to the 2-7. He wanted to see what Lupo and Bernard would do about it. If Van Buren would agree to help.

* * *

Marcus Woll threw an unconscious Connie on the floor of the room. She was drugged with chloroform. She wasn't going to wake up yet. He studied her. She was sleeping, and was quite content by the looks of it. He decided that it was time for a little payback. "Wasn't that memorable," he spat to himself, "I'll show you a memorable time." He pulled out a condom and began to have sex with her. While she was unconscious. While she couldn't consent. He felt she deserved this. She deserved to be raped in his eyes. She insulted his man hood.

She woke up when he finished. She realized she was in danger. She ran up and kicked him over. He grabbed her and slammed her down. He pulled out another condom and she kicked him away. She ran to the walls of the room and opened her mouth. Realizing what she was going to do, he hit her and slammed her onto the floor. She fought him. She wanted him to let her go. She was strained for panic.

"Let me go, you bastard!" she screamed. Woll smirked and pushed her back down. He smacked her across the face. She winced in fear. He overpowered her and raped her again. She pushed him away and gave a successful shout out to the tenant next door. "Help! Help me! I'm Consuela Rubirosa from the District Attorney's office. Help me!" Marcus lunged for her. She took a nose dive to the floor, slamming her whole body against it. "Call Michael Cutter! Call the 27th precinct! Call someone! Help me!" She wanted the entire building to hear her scream. She knew what to expect, what to dread, and what to hope for. She hoped for what she wanted. She was scared, but Mike's face in her mind kept her strong and calm.


	12. Chapter 12

Mike and Jack were in the 27th precinct, looking for leads. The two lead detectives that were on the Woll case- Lupo and Bernard- were working with Lieutenant Anita Van Buren to track down Connie's whereabouts. "She was wearing a cream colored sweater with a knee-length black skirt and black heels. She left alone-."

It was Van Buren that cut him off. She raised her hand and placed it on his shoulder. "Mr. Cutter," she began, "I understand how much Connie means to you-."

"No you… wait… you do?" he asked.

"She told me herself," she answered. "We are doing all we can to find her. We promise you she'll be alive."

Mike looked like that wasn't good enough, but a glare from Jack told him that he better shut up then and there. He just wanted to get his beloved back. His great love.

"Lieu," began Bernard as he entered the room with Lupo trailing behind him. Lupo remained standing while his partner took the empty chair and sat down. "I just got a call from a motel on West 39th Street. They had a man check in that matched Woll's description with a sleeping woman matching Connie's description." Mike sank to the floor. He thought that maybe he killed her and found a place to dispose of the body.

Lupo spoke next. They both received identical calls from identical numbers. "A woman from that same hotel called and said that she heard a woman calling for help. She was told to call this precinct." Everyone knew, somehow, that it was Connie being smart about everything.

"Well, let's go," ordered Lieutenant Van Buren. They all left the precinct. Mike and Jack both wanted to go with them, but the three cops began to protest.

"She's my ADA," argued Jack, "I think Mike and I should come along." Not wanting to continue the argument, they let Jack and Mike in the car. Mike looked as though he was saying a silent prayer. He was hoping for her life.

* * *

Connie was still being chased in that same room. Sweaty from fighting, she wiped her forehead. She stood against the wall. She was huffing and blowing huge breaths of air. She was a hostage. Someone that he could control to his heart's content. She wouldn't let him. She would fight until she died. Death… it wasn't until then she'd considered it. She probably wouldn't live to see Mike ever again.

Mike… the name was a drug. A drug withdrawal made her dizzy. She was dizzy with exhaustion, dehydration, and fear. She was too scared of all that was happening. Maybe there was something else going on, something she didn't see.

"You bitch!" he yelled.

"Shut-up!" she snarled. The order seemed so absolute, so full of power. She was going to take him down.

Something sounded from the distance. It was police sirens. Lupo. Bernard. Van Buren. Jack. Maybe even Mike. She went crazy. Her mind was happy. She took the power that happiness gave her. She kicked him down and headed for the door. He spun around and grabbed her, forcing her to the floor. She punched him, thanking God for those self-defense classes she took when she was in college.

She looked at his face. He didn't look bad. He had a black eye and a few bruises from her punching. Connie was a little pleased with herself. They all know that she was taken against her will. The fact that she could fight back gave her the strength to think of the good in the people she loves. She listened to the sirens pull up. They made way through the hotel and slammed down the door. Lupo grabbed Connie and hurried her out of there while Bernard handcuffed Woll and shoved him out the door.

* * *

Connie just looked around the area. Lieutenant Van Buren was in tears with relief and reached out for the ADA. She returned her embrace. When she let go, Jack seized the opportunity and gave her an enormous hug. When he let go, he kissed her forehead and Lupo led her forward. When she saw Mike looking frantic and looking for her, she broke away from Lupo and headed forward on her own.

Mike heard the familiar click of heels. He turned about forty five degrees to his right, and her face was evident. She was alive. Her skirt was torn, and there was a large tear in the arm of her sleeve. She seemed not to notice them. She kept walking toward him like a broken angel. His broken angel. He didn't care how much fixing she needed, as long as he could do the mending. She staggered up to him and thrust herself at him, a deep kiss planted on his lips. She broke away and eased her arms around his waist. He kissed her hair and clung on to her neck, stroking her hair. Her face turned blank. Her expression changed so slowly. Her eyes slowly filled with tears. She let them begin to fall, and then her eyes closed. She sniffled and buried herself into him further. He just rocked her, thinking that God wanted them together.

"I'm so glad you're safe," he whispered in her hair. She smiled a little bit.

"I needed you in there," she admitted. "I couldn't have been so brave if I thought that you wouldn't come for me. God," she bit back tears, "I love you. I love you. I love you so goddamn much!"

There was nothing more he could say to that except, "I love you, too. I love you more than anything else."

The embrace continued until they were broken apart. They took Connie to the hospital to be examined and she went home. Home. Home was now Mike's place. She decided that she wanted to live with him, and he happily obliged her request. He greeted her at the door and she led him into the bedroom. Being raped didn't affect her like a normal victim for some reason. In fact, because it was Woll, it was as bad as the consensual sex. Not that memorable. They lost themselves under the covers. This experience with Mike was about as memorable as it could get. It was going to stay that way. There was never love with Woll, just a friend with some benefits. But she had love with Mike, and that's what made this so worth the wait.


End file.
